


In case you don't live forever

by DrJackAndMissJo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode AU: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Really Character Death, retelling of the episode, rewriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJackAndMissJo/pseuds/DrJackAndMissJo
Summary: a somewhat sadder retelling of 15x18***"He hadn’t felt that way in a while, not since he rescued Jack from Heaven and from the Empty. He had been elated, having his son back alive, his family complete and well, without complications. He had felt on the top of the world.But then, the deal happened. In one moment, he fell again, powerless and miserable at the whims of cosmic entities that did not care about the world, about their lives, about justice. They only wanted their own selfish joy and greed, and they acted based upon their basic needs to fulfil their void immortalities.And the Empty, they were the only justifiable ones. He had woken them up, he had caused them pain, and it was only fair for Castiel to bargain with his life for Jack’s."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	In case you don't live forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> As always, I do not own anything.  
> This was inspired/requested by @novemberbrooks, when we talked about possible scenarios for the episode and they just. told me. this. and I couldn't help myself.  
> the title comes from the Ben Platt's song _'In case you don't live forever'_ , which screams destiel.  
> Enjoy!

Castiel closed the door behind their backs, knowing that the simple piece of wood wouldn’t have succeeded in barricading them far from harm and danger. But he desperately hoped -not prayed, prayers were far gone out of his vocabulary now- that the action might buy them some mere minutes of reprieve from Billie’s spells.

Out of every possibility he had thought about and calculated before they entered Death’s Realm, their current situation wasn’t on the list.

He had actually believed that Billie was to blame for the disappearance of all their friends and hunters in her vengeful path. It would fit in her schemes of grandeur, after all.

Yet Chuck had toyed with them all once again, playing them as if they were nothing more than pawns on his chess board.

Which, to him, they might have been, at least initially. They were all created as his to mess around with, to control, to manipulate. And their initial free will had been pretend, fake, false and poisoned.

But now, now Chuck’s actions were frantic, almost terrified, scared. He made mistakes and revealed his cards, _their_ cards which they wasted no time in using. And now, he had to rectify, rushing to wipe out the remaining world that rebelled, struggling with his goal of omnipotence. Because, no matter how powerful he was and how hard he tried to make the entire Universe follow his plotlines, he had missed something. And he was terrified of it enough to decide that whatever plan he had to keep his entertainment going was not worth the chance of the Winchester ruining it.

That meant that they might have a chance just yet, Castiel thought as he locked the door and looked for a way to keep Death away, searching through his timeless knowledge.

His hands moved automatically, relaying on muscle memory to search inside Dean’s back pocket for the swiss knife he knew the hunter always kept there no matter how many times he sat on it, splicing his palm open without a second thought.

He was, after all, always happy to bleed for the eldest of the Winchester brothers.

Castiel could have easily unsheathed his angel blade, but there just was something about handling a human-made blade to draw on a human-made door an Enochian seal with angelic blood to protect the one human whose life was worth more than the remaining Universe to said angel, it was something that made Castiel’s heart sing in contempt, in adoration and in rebellion.

He did quick work on the door, hoping for the spell to last and to leave them some reprieve to collect their minds and find a way out of their hopeless situation, but his brain could not think to the extents he needed it to. Not when his beloved human was still clutching his chest in pain as each breath came out in agony.

As soon as his signet was complete, though, Dean’s back straightened as he slumped down in relief, a metaphorical boulder finally lifted from his shoulders.

Castiel immediately rushed to his hunter’s side once more, checking for any lingering effect of Death’s magic on his human body, on his perfect soul. He turned his face around, searching for any sign of discomfort on those features he knew so well, but found nothing other than a barely-there smile, one that always meant fun, trouble and teasing.

“Geez, Cas, if you wanted to touch me so badly, you should’ve just asked.”

“It blocked her grip on you,” was all the Angel could reply, trying to ignore the constant habit of Dean’s to flirt in the most inopportune moments. 

It had become somewhat harder, to keep his emotions hidden and at bay. They were so utterly human and wrong compared to his stoic grace, and they had caused him pains and problems during his time with the Winchesters. First due to his lack of knowledge and of recognition in their regards and then in his lack of action once he figured out exactly why it would feel nice to be around the hunter, uncaring of all the grim spots of self-loathing and traumatic experiences in his magnificent soul.

If anything, the dark past that had miraculously left his heart intact, still bright and full of hope and love and kindness, made Castiel even more interested in the hunter. It could almost be compared to the constellation of freckles that adorned his skin and to Castiel, who could see both of Dean’s appearances, they were equally marvellous sights.

But then, after he had been resurrected from the Empty by Jack, he found himself engulfed in the hunter’s arms, welcomed to stay there as long as he wanted to, gently caressing Dean’s short hair throughout the night as they talked until the Sun appeared, uncaring of the cold weather and of imminent treats.

While there were many quests resting over their shoulders, neither of them cared. Not when they had finally found the words they had both been missing.

Castiel almost expected life to alter after their many conversations following his resurrection, to drastically change as they acknowledged the abyss of feelings that must have diverged between the two of them. After all, in which world would Dean Winchester want him in the same profound way that Castiel wanted him?

In the one they existed in, that was the answer Castiel was thankful for everyday when he got to witness the sight of Dean slowly waking up, his eyelashes fluttering before opening fully, regarding the angel with love and adoration.

And, other than that, nothing had truly changed. Dean was still the same man he had always been, sarcastic and kind and wonderful and incredibly funny and caring, never wasting the opportunity to let his hands linger over Castiel’s shoulders, only now allowing himself to be on the receiving hand of soft touches that could last hours, comfortable and at peace even in their chaotic universe. And Castiel was still the same celestial cosmic wavelength, only with more agency and care than the rest of the remaining angelic garrisons, completely devoted to the human he had raised from perdition a decade prior.

They still bickered like ‘ _an old married couple’_ , as Sam always commented, and they always had each other’s backs no matter the fight, but they also found solace in each other’s presence, silently and tiredly throughout the days and nights. They drank coffee in the morning before Jack woke up, they had movie nights when they stayed huddled on the couch, sharing warmth and a blanket, they went on dates and held each other’s hand.

They were still the best hunter in the Universe and the fallen Angel of the Lord they had always been, they still fought and killed and saved lives, but they were also Dean and Cas, who slow-danced in the kitchen as the oven cooked their meals while the radio hummed some song from the main room.

A sudden knock on the door brought Cas back to reality, out of his remembrances. One of Dean’s rules in the morning was ‘ _Ignore him and he’ll go away_ ’, usually reserved for whenever Sam came disturbing them before his first coffee, and somewhere inside Castiel’s brain, he had decided to apply the same method to the cosmic entity who was Heaven bent in their termination.

As if it might have worked.

“Dean,” he called back to the man in front of him, stepping away from the door and holding his hand as if it was his only tether to the world, grounding and comforting in his fall, “she said that the wound was killing her. Maybe we wait her out.”

They were trapped and they both knew it, but at least they were not alone.

“Yeah, and what if we can’t?” Dean asked, harshly removing his hand from where it was intertwined with Castiel’s and beginning to pace around the room, looking for any way out. Even though they both knew that there was no way out.  
“Then we fight,” he replied proudly and sincerely. They would fight, it was what they did best after all. They would hold their ground against whatever foe came facing their way. Because they were real, their love was untouched by the cruel and volatile author that seemed to be writing their lives.

They were real and so they would fight.  
Dean seemed to have a different train of thought, though. He clasped the back of the chair that was in the middle of the room, in the centre of a demon trap that had to be repainted after years of use, his expression turning mournful. “We’ll lose,” he supplied, already having given up to the idea of victory.

That was another thing that was different, in their relationship: before they opened their hearts, Dean was always looking at life with an optimistic view, pretending to be confident in his plans and finding the better outcome for whatever situation they needed to overcome; it wasn’t until later in their relationship that Castiel realised just how wrong his initial thinking had been, for Dean’s vision of life was dark and twisted by decades of hurt and pain. He would put on a brave face for his brother’s sake and walk into whatever danger their line of life had to offer, believing that he would not survive.

He lived each day as if it was his last, each hunt as if it was his final one. He loved more passionately than any human Castiel had ever encountered, but he fully believed he was unlovable and damaged, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. And Castiel had spent every waking moment trying to make him understand just how wrong he had been.

“I just led us into another trap,” he continued and Castiel couldn’t stomach the distance between them anymore. His hands yearned to touch the soft fabric of his jacket, to smooth over the wrinkles on his forehead and to take the worry away from his features. “Why do I keep on falling for those stupid sons of bitches’ traps?” he lamented, kicking the chair away in a violent motion, undoubtedly trying to disperse the anger that always permeated his bones due to the way he was raised.

And Castiel could not hold himself back any longer, not when those might have been their last moments alive and well. He was immediately next to his beloved’s side, holding his arms out and encircling him once Dean had leapt in his embrace. He waved his uninjured hand through the fine strands of blonde hair that was softer than he could have ever imagined. He carefully held Dean close to his chest, letting him regain his breathing and ready to hear whatever his hunter might have had to say, never silencing him, desperately trying to chase away the ghosts of a past that still hunted the marvellous soul in his arms.

He could feel Dean shudder under his touch, still growing accustomed to the kind and gentle gestures that the angel would dispense for him and him alone. “All of this is because I… I couldn’t hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill and because that’s all I know how to do.”  
Castiel’s heart constricted for his beloved, hating that his mind could create such poisonous soil for such dark and venomous thoughts to grow. He would have plucked every single weed out himself, if he only could, replacing them all with his love and admiration and devotion.

And he would, most definitely, after their ordeal with his forsaken Father was complete. But all he could do now, was to hold his hunter as tightly as he could, trying to convey his love through the gesture.

“Dean,” he spoke softly, careful not to smear any of his blood over his hair and jacket with his injured hand, cupping his cheek with the other instead. He needed his hunter to understand that nothing they were dealing with was his fault, that it was all the work of a twisted monster who had abandoned his creations and who enjoyed seeing them suffer.

“You’re right. It was Chuck all along,” Dean nodded, removing himself from their shared embrace to continue pacing around the room, a wild look crossing over his wonderful eyes. “We never should’ve left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them now.” A bitter laugh came out of him, a weak sound that froze Castiel’s blood in his veins, if he was using the metaphor correctly.

“Everybody’s gonna die, Cas. Everybody we know. Eileen’s already gone and Sam’s fried! There’s nothing I can do to help him. And I can’t stop it,” he said sorrowfully, stopping on his tracks and raising his eyes to Castiel’s with unbridled panic and fear. “She’s gonna get through that door, we both know she will. And she’s gonna kill us, she’s gonna kill _you_. I can’t… I’m sorry.” 

The look on Dean’s eyes was heart-breaking and, for the first time since he locked the door behind his back, Castiel felt hopeless, impotent to face the world, even with his beloved by his side.

He hadn’t felt that way in a while, not since he rescued Jack from Heaven and from the Empty. He had been elated, having his son back alive without complications. He had felt on the top of the world.

But then, the deal happened. In one moment, he fell again, powerless and miserable at the whims of cosmic entities that did not care about the world, about their lives, about justice. They only wanted their own selfish joy and greed, and they acted based upon their basic needs to fulfil their void immortalities.

And the Empty, they were the only justifiable ones. He had woken them up, he had caused them pain, and it was only fair for Castiel to bargain with his life for Jack’s.

And when they explained their deal, Castiel was overjoyed. He thought he had managed to fool the Empty, winning and bluffing in the way that he had seen Sam and Dean do countless times. He and Dean were already together and he had already experienced true happiness, experienced it every day when he got to sleep next to the love of his life. And he had Jack back, their family was united and complete and so utterly _happy_.

It wasn’t until a week later, once the waters had cleared and everything had returned back to somewhat normality, that Castiel realised just how mistaken he had been in his original stance towards the deal.

They had started a quiet morning in the bunker, without a case breathing down their necks inside cheap motel rooms that had always a terrible smell of dust and urine that his heightened senses could pick even when the two hunters never complained about. Sam had gone out for his regular morning run and Dean was cooking breakfast, as per usual. Everything was normal and regular and ordinary, and then it wasn’t.

For Dean had begun to ask him questions as he cooked pancakes, flipped pieces of bacon and scrambled their eggs. Non invasive queries that they always shared, but his tone was levelled, guarded, waiting for rejection.

He had casually mentioned that he was old, older than he’d thought he’d get, by a long shot. He had claimed that his luck was all because of Castiel, because he rescued him out of Hell and saved him so many times during the years, that without him he probably wouldn’t have found the strength to wake up every morning. And then, just as he finished flipping breakfast into the plates, before turning around and without looking, he had mentioned how Jesse and Cesar were fully retired in a quiet little place in the woods, fully warded and their own. He had whispered that it might be a nice thing to do, ‘ _Ya’ know, once the world doesn’t go to shit every other day’._

And Castiel’s heart broke immediately, figuratively obviously, but the pain his newly found knowledge caused was more than psychosomatic.

He had been idiotic, believing himself mightier than the Empty, believing he had managed to succeed victorious in his bargaining.

Because the Empty already knew, they already knew what Castiel’s true happiness could be. It partially was spending time with his beloved and the family they had built together, but it would also entail safety and domesticity and a life far away from the dangers of the supernatural.

Castiel had always wanted more than his siblings, that had been the reason he truly fell in the first place, but he wanted what he could not have, not anymore.

And so, as he had gotten up to aid Dean transporting the plates to the table, waiting for Sam and Jack to join them, he had to force himself to utter nonsense about how he was still an Angel of the Lord, about how human customs did not apply to him, about why would he need to abide the laws od mortals when he was a celestial creature, about how they still had a world to save and a role to play.

He ignored the pain in his chest, raw and unbridled and so very human, as he averted his eyes and avoided collision with the hunter’s. He didn’t deserve to see the love that was for him in the hunter’s soul, he didn’t deserve to watch as his own face crumpled in silent understanding, because Dean Winchester would always understand.

He didn’t want to think about how much he must have been hurting his beloved with his words: after a lifetime of pain and rejection, here stood Castiel, causing the deepest wound.

The following day he got out of bed alone, without daring to disturb his hunter’s sleep. He knew that the best thing, for both of them, would be to disappear, to leave him alone. But he had become selfish since knowing the eldest Winchester, he felt and wanted and yearned.

He did the next best thing, driving his car to the nearby town and entering an antique shop that was run by a changeling. He needed a reminder of his deal, a reminder of the life he had lost, and he bought a simple golden band, engraving it with tiny wards and seals, a testament to his love and adoration for the wonderful hunter that he was lucky enough to call his.

A testament that would never see the light of day, a reminder of hope and wishes shattered and lost into the capricious wills of heartless beings.

He kept it in one of the pockets of his trench-coat, a constant pressure over his heart. He would pick it out from time to time, when he was alone, without the risk of anyone discovering his secret. He would twist it in between his fingers, imagining a world where he might be able to fulfil his own wishes and dreams. He would examine the delicate and simple manufacture, marvelling at the quiet beauty of it, on the days he wished he hadn’t taken the deal, only to be reminded of what he had gained over the loss. After all, he still lived in the bunker, still slept each night in the arms of his beloved, he was still loved and loved back.

The missing piece of their puzzle was futile, he tried to make himself believe. He was, indeed, an angel, and human rules and customs did, indeed, not apply to him. And they still had a world to save.

Therefore, the ring stayed hidden.

Until it crossed his mind back as he stared into the eyes of his beloved, scared and desperate for a miracle.

A miracle he could provide, with a great cost, but a miracle, nevertheless.

“Wait, there is…” he began. He watched as Dean’s eyes widened imperceptibly, his attention full on Castiel’s words as they both ignored Death’s constant knocking. As if either of them could forget.

“There is one thing she’s afraid of. There’s… There’s one thing strong enough to stop her.”

It would definitely be risky, but risk was all they had now. He would have to time the moment right, Dean would have to cooperate, Dean would have to agree. But, Castiel reasoned, at least Dean would make it out alive of the damned trap they had fallen right in. And that was more than the fallen angel could ask, more than he had the right to hope.

And with that knowledge, he closed his eyes and took a steading breath. “When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”

“You did what? Why didn’t you tell me!” Dean fired back, taking long strides to rest in front of him, searching his eyes for a sign, for acknowledgment, for anything.

“Please, Dean. I need to say this, now.”

His voice wavered slightly, but he managed to stand his ground as he watched Dean slowly nod, edging him to continue with his speech.

How had he, a great warrior at Heaven’s service, become a smitten fool in love with the most amazing human being that had ever walked the Earth? But it didn’t matter, not when the time he spent with the eldest Winchester was the most important part of his entire life.

“The price was my life,” he explained, tuning out the insistent knocking and the faltering of the seal, unable to withstand the blunt force of Death’s vengeful path. All that mattered in that moment, were the green eyes that bore into his very being, seeing him and recognising him and loving him. All that mattered was _Dean_. “When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” He watched as the hunter’s eyes began to swell with tears, as he blinked them away furiously. Castiel could only imagine the strain of the thoughts that were occupying his mind at the moment, could imagine the pain he was causing and the sorrow he was about to bring down on his beloved.

A part of the seal on the door broke, reminding Castiel of the ticking clock on both their lives.

Therefore, he continued on his speech, never letting his own eyes fall from Dean’s, memorizing over again all the lines that showed a life well lived, a human worth dying for.

“Because I was foolish and I had mistaken the stakes of my deal. I thought I had already reached my true happiness, I thought I had already found it in you. And I have. But then I realised that something was missing, from us. And because of that deal, once I found out what was missing… Because the one thing I still want, it's something I know I can't have now. But I think… I think I might, the moment is right.”

His voice cracked, unable to hold back his emotions any longer, and his eyes swelled, unable to control the tears that his heart yearned to shed. There was no shame in feeling and in crying, he had told his hunter on several occasions, but he was behaving in a rather hypocritical manner at the moment, powerless to the volition of his emotions. “Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it, in just asking it,” he exclaimed, forcing a sad smile to appear on his face as he watched the confusion appear on his beloved hunter’s features.

“What are you talking about, man?”

“A few days later, afterwards, when we were in the kitchen. Do you remember? You mentioned…”  
Dean stopped him with a hand: “I know what I mentioned and I know what I said,” he spoke harshly. There was no doubt in Castiel’s mind that he had replayed the scene in his mind, over-analysing his reaction and criticizing his own words. He could have not explained the reason behind his reaction, not without giving his deal away, and so he had let his hunter succumb to the dark abyss of his mind, impotent.

He could rectify now, even though his current actions would have brought even more pain than the previous outcome. He nodded along Dean’s words, trying to find his own. “It was at that moment that I knew what the Empty meant. What they wanted. Which was why I…”  
“You shut me down.”

A weak laugh came out of Castiel’s mouth before he could even register its presence. It was a sudden, weak sound, so in contrast with the cacophony of the banging door. He watched as Dean’s eyes scanned his face, looking for a sign of where their conversation would lead. But nothing, probably not even in his darkest nightmares, could come close to the truth Castiel was about to lay on his shoulders.

“I had no other choice,” he calmly explained once his heartbeat had gotten back to a steady rhythm, ready to spend his last moments on Earth with the man he loved and cherished, “I was selfish, I didn’t want to waste a single moment with you. And I let you think that I didn’t want you, but I will always want you.”

Then, because he needed the hunter to know, he needed him to _see_ , he repeated words that had already been said, but whose message still hadn’t stuck inside of his beloved’s mind. “I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're ‘ _Daddy's Blunt Instrument_.’ And you think hate and anger, that's… that's what drives you, that's who you are. But it's not, no matter how many times I told you already, I will constantly tell you. And once this is over I will personally go up to your poor excuse of a father figure, just to ‘ _deck him’_ , as Sam says.”

Dean’s laugh at that was bright and wet, a broken sound that both healed and destroyed the remains of Castiel’s grace, and tears began to fall in earnest out of both their eyes, neither caring about the momentary weakness, safe in each other’s presence.  
He took one of Dean’s hands in his uninjured one, holding on for dear life as he desperately continued his unprepared speech: “Everything you have ever done, _the Good, the Bad and the Ugly_ ,” he squeezed tightly, trying to convey his use of modern human culture that he knew for certain would cause amusement from his hunter, “you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know and the past twelve years alongside you had more meaning to me than the rest of time I had to endure alone. You know, ever since we met and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

He could not keep the smile from forming on his lips, he could not stop his heart from beating wildly in his chest, he could not stop his love from overflowing through the very fabric of the Universe. “Because it is,” he said, reaching inside of his trench coat to take out the most precious treasure in all of Creation, second only to the wonderful man standing in front of him, baffled. “I love you, I will always love you.”

Castiel knew that it was human tradition for the postulant to get down on one knee, in front of the receiver of the proposal, but they had never been known for respecting traditions. Both he and Dean preferred to make their own rituals, to find a way to compromise Castiel’s heavenly background and Dean’s human habits. They were the middle ground, perfectly intertwined in each other’s lives.

Still, Castiel kneeled on the hard ground of the bunker, letting the cold tiles take his warmth as he looked up at his beloved. He had feared that the gesture might have felt minimal, wrong, _blasphemous_ , as the humans would say whenever dealing with religion and the supernatural, but it was incredibly poetic and fulfilling, worshipping the only being in Creation that deserved his love.

Not his forsaken father, not his manipulative siblings, not the sterile Heaven he had been forced to endure. Just the broken man that had been both his demise and salvation. The one he had rescued from Damnation and that had rescued him back.

And he held the precious ring out, his only beacon of redemption, as the man in front of him covered his mouth with his palms, silently shaking as tears crossed over his face. “All you have to do is say yes.”

“Don't do this, Cas,” the hunter whispered, falling to his knees and running his hands over Castiel’s face, wiping away the tears that lingered on the skin, his lips quivering as he tried to keep his own eyes dry, failing.

And, to Castiel, he was beautiful. After everything that he had gone through, that he had endured, that he had suffered, he was still beautiful. He was still Dean Winchester, the brightest and purest soul in Creation, the reason his fall was much more meaningful than Lucifer’s puny rebellion. The reason he’d endure torment willingly, knowing his hunter, his beloved, his _Dean_ , was alive and well and beautiful.

“It’s okay, it will be okay,” he uttered, mirroring Dean’s gesture and cradling the man closer, resting his forehead against the hunter’s and allowing himself to close his eyes, to relax in the arms of his beloved for the last time. “You will find a way to make this right, but first I need to buy you time.”  
He felt Dean shake his head against his, he heard his sharp inhale of breath and he watched as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he struggled with his words. “Please,” he simply repeated over and over, his hands never leaving Castiel’s face, as if the mere thought of separation caused him misery.

The angel had never felt more worshipped as when he was in his hunter’s arms and this was no exception. It was thrilling, addicting, the knowledge that such a man deemed him worthy of his prayers and of his adoration.

“Dean. My love, I am the one begging here,” he said, brushing his cheek with the clean hand as he still held the ring in between them, smudged with his own blood, “Let me save you, one last time.”  
“I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”  
“You can and you will.”  
“I don’t want to!” his hunter yelled, almost loudly enough to drown the room out of the sounds that permeated it. Almost.

On the other side of the door, Death was still knocking. Billie was still Heaven bent on her path, was still trying to demolish them both, and Castiel knew that, any second now, the seal would break, leaving them to her wrath.

Their time was over.

“Dean. I gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition,” he declared stoically, clearing his voice and head of emotions and using the tone that had commanded thousands of soldiers to battle for the glory of Heaven. “You finally have the chance to repay me,” he then added with a sad smile, knowing that the time spent together had been the most meaningful in his entire existence, in the thousands of millennia he witnessed passing.

His hunter kept on shaking his head, the tears flowing unrestrained now, freely, in tandem with the beat of his heart in agony: “Don’t say that,” he begged, never once letting his eyes wander away from the angel’s face.  
“It’s alright, my beloved,” Castiel continued as another loud knock ruptured their bubble, their moment of happiness and sorrow. Nevertheless, Castiel tried to reassure his beloved hunter, finally asking the secret question he had kept silent for too long. The question he was dying keeping and the question he was dying just to have it answered. “Will you marry me?”

“I…” Dean’s voice broke in tandem with another knock, growing louder and louder, “I love you, Castiel, I want to marry you and I promise to you that I _will_.”

He wasted no time in linking their hands together, in placing the ring on the calloused finger of the hunter’s left hand, in closing the distance between them.

It was such a stark contrast, between their first kiss and this, their last. The first one had been a natural act, as natural as breathing, it had been calm and collected and thought of. Castiel himself had dreamed of that moment countless of times, before it had finally happened, after one of their many nightly conversations, when they were both happy and comfortable in each other’s presence, even more so than usual.

The last one was rushed and well-practised. Long was the clumsy shame he felt in the beginning, replaced with longing for more, always _wanting_ in a way that was brutal and human and marvellous. Dean clung to his lips, chasing them and never letting them go, holding his breath to not waste a single second of their limited time, and Castiel couldn’t bring himself to care either. Not when the fear and the knowledge of their imminent separation clinging to his being, not when every single thought he had was replaced with _‘what if’s’_ and doubt, waiting for the much needed axe to drop while simultaneously hoping it could go away untouched.

He felt more then heard the seal break, too occupied with the man kissing him. But he heard the terrible sound of nothing sweeping into the room.

It took Castiel all of his strength to push his beloved aside, to untangle himself from their mess of limbs enough to grab his shoulder, leaving behind a bloody handprint that mirrored the scar he had left on that same shoulder over a decade prior, when he saved the Righteous Man under Heaven’s orders, shoving Dean away and bringing him out of harm’s way. He felt, powerless, as the Empty claimed him, dragging Billie as well into their realm, but his eyes could not tear from the slumped form of his beloved, on his bewildered gaze, on the fear and pain and love written all over his face, all over his soul.

“Goodbye, Dean.”  
And Castiel closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to close in and engulf him, sacrificing himself for the man he loved.

After all, he was always happy to die for Dean Winchester.

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO SORRY,  
> but Noe che cazzo è tutta colpa tua.  
> Also, out of contrary belief, I am a Dean-coded Cas-girl and it's quite funny the length I'd go to protect Dean Winchester while I constantly talk myself down :)  
> Please don't forget to leave a kudo and comment!  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Till next time,  
> Jo


End file.
